Useless
by Kitty Kat
Summary: This is me, Craig Manning. I used to be the underdog. You used to want me to win. One day, I changed your mind. Then I became the one you love to hate. Now, I'm right back where I started. I'm the kid you pick last in gym class. You're stuck with me.
1. Fall

Useless  
  
A/N: Why must I write stories, do you ask? Why must I have like 18 million going on at the same time, and none of them get updated because INSTEAD I flood your precious with one shots and even more stories? Yea... I'm sorry. But that doesn't get you out of reviewing.  
  
Chapter 1: Fall  
  
"How did we get here?" I scream at her. We're in another dingy apartment that we'll have to leave in three days because we're fucking broke. Always broke. Broke and broken, they are definitely kindred spirits. Broke and broken fit together like peanut butter and jelly. Broke and broken is what we always are.  
  
"Because we're both fucking useless members of society, Craig. We're the ones they kicked to the curb. We're the ones that no one cares about. Think about it, if you didn't care for me, and I for you, who would give two shits what we did? No one, Craig. Not a damn soul."  
  
"I could find someone," I say rather optimistically.  
  
"Yea, because there are millions of girls who want to be with a grungy pothead penniless musician with no motivation whose only assets are an old guitar and the shadows of good looks. Face it, Craig, you walk out of here, and what happens then? Nothing. You die. Do you want to die? Fuck, Craig, you haven't even lived."  
  
"You're sounding very philisophical this morning, Ellie," I retort. I hate her.  
  
"I'm on the rag," she says as she stumbles into bathroom. I groan audibly. "At least I didn't get knocked up like that last clown you dated." I laugh silently to myself. Bring on the Manny card, Nash. Doesn't that make you feel so superior? "I just thought of something," she says poking her head out of the bathroom door. "Even that slut left you. I can't believe I got stuck with you."  
  
This is me, Craig Manning. I used to be the underdog. People used to want me to win. One day, I changed everyone's fucking mind. Then I became the one they loved to hate. Now, I'm right back where I started. I'm the kid you pick last in gym class. You're stuck with me.  
  
"Don't you have class or something to go to?" I manage after I light my first joint of the day. It is, of course, a cliche that I am the stoner. Of course. I'm the one with the goofy hair. What else could I amount to?  
  
"I got a job. I'm going to be stripping from now on. You have to deal with me until four when my shift starts."  
  
"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Ellie."  
  
"You think I'm kidding?" she questioned as she emerged from the bathroom zipping up knee-length boots. Under those, she wore fishnets and a skirt that could have doubled for a headband. She wasn't wearing a shirt yet, only her bra.  
  
"Funky," I commented while taking a hit. "Want some?" I offered.  
  
"Sure," she said. She climbed on top of me, facing me, and took a hit. She rolled her head back in laughter. "Don't you want me, baby?"  
  
My hand slid up her inner thigh. "You're not wearing underwear," I said in a singsong voice. She giggled. I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder, and started walking towards the bedroom. She giggled some more, kicking her legs a little for effect. I flung her on the bed and slipped my boxers off. As I pushed inside of her, quicker with every thrust, I realized something. "Didn't you say it was that time of the month?"  
  
"Oopsie," she said playfully. I pulled out and shook my head in disgust.  
  
"That's so... wrong."  
  
"I'm gonna take a shower," she said and skipped to the bathroom.  
  
I sighed loudly. "Wait up."  
  
.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. C.E .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.  
  
I flipped through the channels aimlessly. Cable was the one thing I was never able to give up. I always needed to feel connected to the world, even if I watched Spongebob more than I watched CNN. "Why are you wearing that?" Ellie said as she walked out of the bedroom again.  
  
I glanced at my outfit. It was my wrinkled post office uniform with a huge 'Craig' sewn into the breast pocket. "I work there now, shit for brains. I told you, like, a week ago. Didn't you pay attention? Here's a better question- why are you wearing that?" Ellie was still wearing the same skirt, hose, and boots she had been wearing. The only addition was a plain white wife beater over her bra. "You look like a hooker."  
  
"I told you, I work there now. I told you this morning."  
  
"Work where?" I asked.  
  
"Crazy Horse. I went last night with a few of the girls. When I asked if they were hiring, the manager told me to come back tonight."  
  
"Ellie, you're not going to be a stripper," I said.  
  
"Craig, sweetie, we need the money. I'm not going to say no to money."  
  
It's true. We do need the money. "Whatever," I said, hitting a few buttons on the remote.  
  
"I'm going to leave then," she said, picking up her keys off the 'dining room table.' The table, in fact, was simply a card table set up in the area that our landlord had said was a dining room. "Before I forget," she said, standing between me and the TV. I attempted to look around her, but she kept cutting me off. I gave up; my attention fully placed on her. "We're going to need to go to Joey's soon, the Taurus keeps breaking down."  
  
"We just got it, like, two years ago."  
  
"Who cares? Let Joey fix it. We'll trade up."  
  
"I just hate taking advantage of Joey like that. He's been nothing but awesome to me since I moved in with him six years ago. I mean, even now, I'm no one, doing nothing, working at the fucking post office, and he practically gives us a car everytime you're fed up with one. If you need a new car that badly, don't step all over Joey to get it."  
  
"Well, the cash will be flowing in soon enough, sweetie," she said placing a salty kiss on my lips. I licked them, and she walked towards the door. "Oh, one more thing," she said without turning around. "What do we think about having sex with other people? Totally out of the question?"  
  
I looked to see if she was serious, but I couldn't see her expression. "Erm, well, I guess, if you do it, try to get paid."  
  
"Of course," she said laughing. "A girl has to have some standards." 


	2. A Classic Tragedy

Useless  
  
A/N: Based on the song "Lover I Don't Have to Love" by Bright Eyes. Lyrics of Trickstir's song belong to Bright Eyes. Everything is Bright Eyes. Love.  
  
Chapter 2: A Classic Tragedy  
  
I throw my jacket on the card table and pick up the screaming telephone in one fluid motion. "Yello?"  
  
"Manning, what's up?"  
  
"Oh, hey Adam," I answer to the voice I know so well, the one of my bandmate. "What's going on?"  
  
"Um, I think we're going to meet up at 6, so are you in?"  
  
Shit. The show. I totally blanked. "Oh, yea, sure, well I just got home so I might need a few minutes."  
  
"A few minutes is fine, Manning, but don't make it an hour like you did last name."  
  
"Never!" I say with mock horror.  
  
"Whatever dude." Click.  
  
I rub my whole face and glance at the clock. Fucking great. 5:47. I have to leave in, well, now. I can't believe I forgot about the show tonight. We're actually getting paid for this. We're the fourth band playing out of five. It's not bad. We still haven't gotten popular enough to occupy the last spot, but maybe someday...  
  
I walk into the bedroom, hoping for some sign of Ellie. None, of course. I glance at where her knee high boots were, and I notice them to be missing. I figure out the obvious, that she's wearing them, and realize she's "working." Whatever. The chick's crazy.  
  
The shirt I throw on says "Macbeth" on it. Obviously, a bit of irony, since at one point, I was well on my way to being a Shakesperian expert. I took so many classes on Old English and Renaissance literature that I could recite most of the times' best works backwards. That insane period of time where I literally had the world as my bitch. I'm not saying I've ever regretted any decision I've ever made, because I certainly wanted that at the time, but there's a definite sense of security that I'm going to miss.  
  
I don't bother to leave a note, since she'll be gone til late. Later than late. Late as in 10. Tomorrow morning.  
  
I'm not late. Not to them, since I said I would be late. I walk in at 6:13. That's really fucking good for me. The place is already "buzzing." Whatever that means. There's a bunch of punk/poser/skater kids all hanging out like they live for this shit. Shitty bands that they should avoid at all costs. But they gave up their weekly allowance, so I'm not going to say anything.  
  
We have an impromptu meeting on the corner to discuss the name game. Adam, the young, cocky ass drummer, is insisting on Trickstir. He starts telling the story of some Indian that would play tricks on people, but his outstanding feature is the fact that his genitalia is in a box that he carries on his shoulder. "So, moving on..." I say once the story's over. He gives me the kind of look 18 year olds give you when they're pissed and have nothing intelligent or clever to say. "Whaddya say, Bobby?" I ask our "quiet" bassist. He's not quiet, just, you gotta get him on a stage first.  
  
"Whatever." Bobby's got the experience of age on his side, and he really doesn't give a shit, like me. The only reason I care, why I have to care, is because I can't let Adam win. Except I have no good ideas of my own.  
  
"We'll play tonight as Trickstir," I concede. Adam's look gets suddenly serious and cocky. I shake my head at him. "Anything else?"  
  
No one says anything. I just kind of shrug. Bobby and our second guitarist, Mack, start to head back into the club. Adam grabs my arm when I start to follow them. "You gotta give them the look," he mumbles. I cock my eyebrow. "I know you think my hair is just naturally like this, but it ain't. Your's is easy as fuck, but just... do something. Make the chicks wanna dig you."  
  
First off, the kid's hair is as greasy as the bacon I ate at Denny's yesterday. Also, it is straight and falls to his nose. It's shit. "I already have a chick digging me."  
  
"Do it for the fucking band," he says. He whips out a comb(I don't ask) and spends five minutes "poofing" my hair. We head inside, and I check myself out in a mirror. It looks absolutely the same.  
  
"Yea, alright," I say and shove him a bit. He shrugs and walks away.  
  
I turn around to check out the crowd. Good looking bunch. On second glance, no one is that attractive. Except for the one. The one that stands out. She's gorgeous. No, no, no. She's fucking gorgeous. Her dark brown hair falls almost to her hips. She's dark in a sense, but not dark like Manny, more dark as in.. unknown. Fucking unreachable. Some kind of sub-human spirit. Beautiful.  
  
Something in my pants agrees with me, and I turn around in embarassment. I hold my breath and count to ten, thinking of a million different things. Finally, I'm calmed down, and I turn back. She's gone. Totally fucking figures.  
  
I stare at where she had been sitting. I wonder what her name is. Probably something as beautiful and exotic as she is, something like Penelope or... Juliet. Yes, Juliet.  
  
The first three bands, and I still haven't caught site of Juliet since. I know she's around here somewhere, she has to be, you're not allowed re-entry, yet still I can't find her. I've never thought of the venue as big, but it really is when I least need it to be. My search is only interrupted my hands being placed firmly on my shoulders. "It's time, Manning," Adam says once I turn around.  
  
I nod and follow him to the stage. In all my distractions, I haven't realized that they were setting up the whole time. I laugh indifferently to myself. Oh, it's all so funny. Oh, it's all so fucking ironic.  
  
"Hey guys, we're, urm, Trickstir," I speak the last word like a piece of broccoli left on my teeth. Actually, the last thing, the thing about everything being ironic, it's not. It's just fate. And I guess a little bit of luck. "We're going to play a little set here, so I hope you checked your throwing vegetables at the door," I continue. I get a few chuckles. The punk kids are antsy. I don't want to piss the punk kids off, mind you.  
  
I play the opening chords. I look up to see if the group's into it, and they are. Even Juliet. I see her now. She looks more distant, but still as taking as before. Her outfit, something I must have only subconciously seen, has the attitude of sex. She's wearing a long red sleveless t-shirt that rests on her upper thighs. You can barely see them, but I do occasionally glance some black fabric underneath, but something so miniscule that it's barely there. I have half a mind to jump off the stage and take her right here, in the middle of the Toronto punk scene, but I grit my teeth and bear it.  
  
I stare at her as the words flow out of me:  
"You write such pretty words, But life's no storybook.  
Love's an excuse to get hurt.  
And to hurt. Do you like to hurt?  
I do, I do.  
Then hurt me,  
Then hurt me,  
Then hurt me..."  
  
The set's over. The kids come up to me and tell me I "fucking rocked, dude" then proceed to beg me to buy them cigarettes. I always stand close to Juliet, not sure what to say, trying to get rid of the kids. The final band is playing, a longer set than most but I could stay here, watching here, all night. It's not long enough. I can't wait until the end.  
  
"Hey!" I scream over the deafening volume of the drums and squealing guitar. She looks at me. Her body stops swaying to the music for a half-second, and I smile at her response, although it's not really a response at all. I don't know what to do now. Her attention is back on the stage. I size her up, 5'8, 130, nail-bitingly gorgeous(although I think that's a contradiction in and of itself). Then I notice her shoes. They look like mocassins gone punk. They are checkered black and white, and in the white, she's written a few lyrics. "I like your shoes!" The music is dying down behind us, so I don't have to scream.  
  
She smiles, still not looking at me. "Thanks." We stand like that until the music is totally done, and everyone's getting kicked out. She looks at me, and I avert my eyes since I had been staring. "Can I follow you?"  
  
I grab her hand and lead her out of the madhouse. She couldn't have said four more choice words. Perfect. I point to my building since it's only two blocks down. Perfect.  
  
We walk into the apartment, and I suddenly really wish I'd ask Ellie to clean more. It's not as bad as it can be, but we won't talk about what Juliet deserves. She deserves so much better. Speaking of Juliet... "I still don't know your name," I say.  
  
She raises her eyebrows in response. "What time is it?"  
  
Alright, so we're playing that game. Whatever floats your boat, Juliet. "Not late," I answer. "Before midnight." We stand awkwardly in our makeshift dining room. "Urm, well, I have a few movies..." I start, but I'm interrupted. She forces me against the wall and pushes her tongue inside my mouth to stop the words from coming out anymore.  
  
The kiss is so passionate, so greedy, that I don't want to move or even breathe until she breaks it. She slides her hands to my thighs and rubs her hands all over my jeans. I let out a small moan, I can't help it, and she forces her tongue into my mouth harder.  
  
I don't know how, but we make it to the bedroom. She falls on top of me on the bed. She gets off of me for a short time. "Do you have a girlfriend?"  
  
I figure there's no sense in lying. "Yea, but she's..."  
  
"I don't fucking care," she says. "I just smell her." Then, she's right back on top of me.  
  
After we're done, we get drunk and do it all again. We do it three times in all. And we're also shit-faced. I would ask her to stay, but Ellie...  
  
"I gotta walk you to your car now."  
  
"Mmkay," she answers.  
  
"But you can't drive!" I say slapping myself on the head.  
  
"Nahhhh, I'm fine."  
  
"Okay," I say. We walk back to the club, groping each other like teenagers at prom. "So, where's your car?" I ask once we get near the club.  
  
"Urm, like, over there," she says throwing her arm out in a random direction. Unfortunately for us, that direction just happened to be a brick wall.  
  
"Try again."  
  
"I don't know, why do you need to know?"  
  
"Forget it," I say. "You're taking the Subway home."  
  
She giggles. "'Kay."  
  
"Will you come back tomorrow morning?"  
  
"'Kay."  
  
"Come to my house. I'll help you find your car and everything."  
  
"'Kay." I lead her to the Subway station, only another block away.  
  
"Will you get home okay?" I ask.  
  
"Yep," she answers with a toothy smile. I grab a pen out of my back pocket and scribble my number onto her left arm.  
  
"In case you get lost..." I simply say.  
  
"Don't worry, whatever your name is. I'll just call you Romeo. You're my Romeo. But don't worry. I'll get home fine." She seems more sober, and I'm still drunk, so I totally believe her.  
  
She never came back. Isn't that all ironic? I'm her Romeo, and she's my Juliet, and we'll never see each other again. A classic tragedy. 


	3. You’ve Arrived

**Useless**

**Chapter 3: You've Arrived**

Ellie climbed onto my lap, fresh from a shower. I ran my fingers through her combed, wet hair and rested my other arm on her knees. "Ashley called," she said as simply as if she was telling me that it's looking to snow.

My hand dropped to the couch. "Kerwin?"

"The one and only. What are we watching? A dog show? What's this?" She picked up the remote and flipped through the channels endlessly.

"What did she want?"

Ellie shrugged. She shifted her weight slightly, so I wrapped my arm around her again and pulled her closer to me. She finally rested the TV on Comedy Central. "She's in town for the holidays. She wants to meet up with us."

"Us?" I asked incredulously.

"Spinner and her. She wants us to go out to lunch."

I managed a slight laugh at the irony of situation going on. Ashley Kerwin wanted to have lunch. That is the fucking greatest. "What did you say?"

She looked at me funny for a second. "Why the hell did you think I'm showered before 11 AM?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "Today? Wait, we're having lunch today?"

"There's no time like the present."

"Ellie, I haven't seen or spoken to either Ashley or Spinner since graduation. What the hell are we going to say? We can't tell them the truth." Suddenly, it felt like someone's played a cruel joke and moved my high school reunion up seven years.

She sighed loudly. "You have real problems with the truth when it comes to Ashley, don't you?"

"I take that highly offensive. It takes two to tango, Ms. Nash."

"Maybe Ash isn't giving it up to Spinner. I remember he used to have a crush on me in high school. How much do you think that crush will pay?" she wondered aloud.

I pushed her off of me. "I have to get ready."

"I wasn't actually serious. God don't get your panties in a bunch," she called to my retreating figure. I stuck my middle finger up at her and took off my shirt as I walked into the bathroom.

**.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. C.E .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.**

The most awkward things in my life to this point could make a street girl blush. Watching as my own cocaine was being confiscated as the dean came to tell me that I needed to be out of the dorms by the end of the day. Waiting for Joey and Caitlin to come home from their honeymoon so I could tell them the reason I wasn't living at the dorms anymore. Every endless day during my 28 day stint in the Sunshine Coast Rehabilitation Center. But still, this simple lunch with Ashley was so much worse and considerably more awkward than anything I've ever been through.

Ellie had been completely silent since her salad came. That left me with the totally undesired position of keeping our "guests" company. Bull. You can't be guests in your hometown. I watched Spinner's hand slide under the table not-so-subtly and fell onto what I hope is her knee. It made me suddenly feel very dirty about myself. Not that I'm jealous or anything, Ash is a real grade A bitch, but I never have wanted to be in the presence of Spinner when he's attempting to get some. He's horribly clumsy, and it's just not right.

I cleared my throat to try to get Spinner's hand back on the table, but it only succeeded in averting his gaze back to me. "So Ash, how is Toby?" I asked.

"He's doing great. He's running around this city like a madman, I'm sure. He's got a new girlfriend I'm going to meet for the first time tonight. Chloe, I think her name is. Something that sounds like a foreign model." I let out a small chuckle picturing what Toby's girlfriend would look like. "I know what you're thinking, but she's gorgeous. I've seen a picture. Toby landed this great job at a computer company right after graduation, and women have just been flocking themselves at him." It hit me like a ton of bricks. Toby is dating some gorgeous model-like creature, and I'm with a stripper. How the hell did this happen?

I took a long swig of my beer. After resting it back on the table cloth, I saw Spinner's smug grin again as he was staring at Ashley. "Great for him," I managed between clenched teeth. "He really deserves it."

"And how is Angela?" Ash asked back.

I despised everything that reminded me of the life I used to have. I despise Ash and Spinner for it now, Ellie for it always, and Angela for it even though she is the one good part about that family. However, due to my stubbornness and Joey's warnings to her, we hardly talked when I did see her. "She's fine," I lied.

Ellie put down the fork and wiped the edges of her mouth with her napkin. "She has a boyfriend, and Craig wants to kill him every time he sees him. What's his name again?" She looked at me and winked. "Chris, that's right. Anyways, she's becoming a lot like Emma Nelson when she was in high school. Always fighting for a cause, that's Angie."

I caught onto Ellie's little game pretty quickly. "Sometimes just like Paige though, right El?" I said, offering my own to this little tale. "Chris and her walking around that school like they own it."

Spinner and Ashley soon joined in our giggling over the story. "Poor thing," Ashley commented.

The rest of the lunch was a blur. Ellie became alive, in some weird way, in her twisted knots of lies and fantasies. Her hand moving up and down my thigh made me somehow realize that I, too, was part of her fantasies. She dreamt me up. Everything else she had to lie about, but not me. She _needed_ me, and, more than that, she _wanted _me. For one fleeting second, I didn't feel quite so useless. I felt loved.

We said our goodbyes the way that old friends do. I pumped Spinner's hand and we promised that we would meet up again soon. I leaned down and awkwardly kissed Ash on the cheek, but my lips felt raw next to her skin. We saw them off in a taxi, one hand each wrapped around the other and the other hand in an upright waving position. The taxi gradually became totally immersed in the sea of traffic all around us. I wiped off my glasses as Ellie and I made our way back to the car.

"Weird," she mumbled under her breath.

Fine. I could take your bait. "What's weird?"

"Ashley. The last time I saw her, at graduation you know, she told me she hoped the next time she saw me would be in a coffin with sliced up wrists."

I almost stopped her in her tracks. "You never told me that."

She shrugged. "I didn't want to ruin graduation. Especially what you had planned for me that night. Candles. Our initials spelled out in rose petals. That amazing jacuzzi in the nicer-than-most hotel room."

"And the coke."

She laughed. "Yea, all that fucking coke. Graduation was amazing. We should do something like that again."

"I still can't believe Ash said that to you at graduation. She told me that she finally forgave me and she wished me 'all the best.'"

Ellie laughed. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I did."

"Oh," she said laughing more. "Well we did get high that night. It must've not mattered, or I could've forgot."

I shook my head at her. "It's not like it was your fault at all. Ash broke up with me because, well, the reason is slipping my mind right now. It wasn't important. But it devastated me. And there you were, with your fucking amazing legs showing under that bondaged skirt, and all the pot in the world. Ellie, you were the fucking perfect high school dream."

"And now..." she probed.

I grabbed her and kissed the top of her head. "You're perfect..." I meant to say that it's perfect how she fit into my arms and under my head like that, but it seemed fitting that I trailed off. "I wouldn't give you up for anything."

"Not even," she stopped and seemed to search for something to finish her question with, "Ashley Kerwin?"

I spat out a laugh before I can stop myself. "Are you serious? Did you see her in there, all holier-than-thou while letting Spinner feel her up? It was disgusting. Man, if I never saw that chick again, it would be too fucking soon." Ellie bit her lower lip in a nervous habit sort of way. "What did you do, Eleanor?"

She immediately removed her bite from her lip and glared at me. "You don't call me that ever." I shrugged and smiled like a child with a secret. Finally, she relented and sighed deeply. "We're going shopping tomorrow. And you're going to come after work to Kate and Jeff's, and we're all going to eat dinner." She closed her eyes and got ready for my assault. "Please don't kill me."

I sighed deeply and massaged my temples to shoo away the beginnings of a headache. "I'm not going to kill you. Just, why would you volunteer us for that kind of hell?"

"Because Ashley's forgiven me, wordlessly, and she wants to be my friend. I'm not really in the position to turn down friends."

I leaned against my car and pushed her small frame next to mine. "I noticed." I kissed her hard and passionately just because I fucking could.

"Okay, Romeo, that's cute and all, but it's December. In Canada. Open up the fucking car."

She's got a beautiful mouth. It's because she's beautiful.


	4. Sidewalks of Stone

**Useless**

**Chapter 4: Sidewalks of Stone**

Craig Manning remembered the last time he had done this. It ended in a big flaming shit pile, he recalled perfectly, but he found himself doing it again. It was something about how her skirt was riding high on her thigh, and how his voice cracked on a song he knew perfectly. Her brown eyes slowly made their way up from the paper she had been looking at until they met his. Her red bangs canopied them just enough to make her seem even more mysterious and out of his league. He needed a glass of cold water.

She placed her hand on his thigh, and he knew in that instant that she was his. He forgot his reasoning and logic, a usual event in the life of Craig Manning. Later on, he would have the most biting insults screamed at him, but he wasn't thinking of anything but her. He felt empowered to simply be next to her, and she was offering him the chance to get even closer. He knew no guy could turn her down. Suddenly, the boundaries of relationships and their small minded peers seemed to be things of a world of which they refused to take part. He placed his hand in her tangled mane and somehow pressed it against her neck. With all the confidence he could muster, he pulled her closer to him until her lips, tasting of pina coladas, finally met his. He moved his guitar to the floor so her body could press up against him, causing thoughts he knew by his shaky morals weren't allowed. But he rebelled against his morals, and he rebelled against all that he knew in the fateful kiss. She rubbed her hand upwards against her fishnets, causing a sound that drove every doubt out of Craig's head. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He was completely and utterly wrapped up in the moment.

He didn't think to realize that this girl, this innocent girl in her plaid uniform skirt and her school girl braids, could be tricking him into a relationship. He didn't realize how lonely she had become and how deeply she had sunk into depression after the sudden absence of one of his oldest friends, Sean Cameron. He didn't realize how much Ellie envied his relationship with Ashley, and how she decided to do the most devious of acts one girl could do to another girl as soon as she heard the news that the break-up was official. Every step she took had become as calculated as a chess move. Every piercing look and every flirtatious smile hid sinister motives and a craving for destruction that finally showed its evil face on a warm September afternoon.

Ellie dug her tongue into his throat, hoping to claim his soul if possible. His hands trembled where he had rested them, an inch above her knee. She heard the door click open and couldn't help but smile against Craig's lips. She checked the clock above Craig's head. Right on time. She knew she could bet anything on Ashley's punctuality.

The next few minutes were a blur of obscenities and tears. Ellie looked on as Ashley viciously attacked Craig with her words and her fists, with Craig narrowly avoiding the blows. Ashley then turned to the girl who she had thought to be her best friend. But Ellie just looked on with her trademark sinister smile. Ashley needed her now, the most she had ever needed a friend, to be comforting and offer some hope or solace, but it only added to her heartbreak that Ellie had been involved, in a most deviant way, in the crime. More than that, Ashley later realized, Ellie had set the whole thing up. Ellie only wanted to hurt her. But Ellie didn't care. All she cared about was that on that fateful warm September day, she walked out of Degrassi Community School with her fingers firmly intertwined with Craig Manning's. All she cared was that she had finally accomplished her goal and gotten her man. And it didn't matter to her how many lives she had devastated in the process.

**.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. C.E .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.**

**5 Years Later**

I got out of the cab and slammed the door shut. I'm pissed off. I fucking hate taxis, not to mention the fact that I'm now 20 poorer all because Ellie decided to be BFF's with my ex-girlfriend. I forced myself to trudge up her sidewalk. 'This is the last place in the world I want to be,' played on repeat in my head like a broken record.

"Craig!" I heard coming from the side of the house. I stopped abruptly and turned to the owner of the voice. A very adult looking Spinner Mason, clad in a polo shirt and a golf jacket? Oh fucking hell, you've got to be kidding me.

"Hey Spin," I answered back, "or is it Gavin?" I gave his outfit the obvious once over.

He laughed a hearty businessman laugh. What the fuck did Ashley do to him? "No, no, to my friends and Ash, I'm still Spinner."

Well good, cause if you weren't, I'd have nothing left to live for. Fucking spare me. "So are the girls already here?" I asked, changing the subject as best as I could.

"Inside, yea, I just came out here for a smoke break."

"You smoke?" I asked incredulously. Hasn't he been defiled by the reports that smoking kills yet?

"Don't you?" he asked back. I nodded for lack of anything else to do. Of course I smoke, I'm the kid who ran his life into the gutter at age 16 and hasn't looked back yet. But luckily he doesn't ask what I smoke. Because it sure as hell isn't weak ass cigarettes. "I'm glad I caught you out here actually," he said. "The thing is, I don't have a lot of guy friends..." Oh my God, he was hitting on me! Spinner! He reached into his pocket. He was going to pull out a condom. Run, Craig, run far away. Instead, he pulled out a piece of paper. It was pretty. Too pretty. White lace trimmed the edges. What was going on here? "And, so, I wanted to ask you to be my best man."

"Spin," the word came out with a choking gasp for air. This is your life. This is your life on drugs. "You're getting married?"

"I know," he said, patting my back. "But it's Ashley, man. There's something about that chick."

"Did she say she wouldn't fuck you until you gave her a ring? Is that it?"

"Craig, man, I know you're jealous."

"Jealous, eh? Spin, I'm not jealous. I'm with Ellie."

"So was I last night. I know that you feel so unfulfilled in life-"

"God, Spin, don't tell me that!"

He looked around dumbfounded. He always had that goddamn look on his face. If only, just once, I could have smacked it off of him. I clenched my fists and released them. So much tension and high strung energy. "Listen," he said, "I'd love to stand out here and argue with you, but it's freezing. Let's just go inside. You can get back to me on the offer."

God, I wished I was high. Just a little bit of something, anything, that could get me through this dinner. I kept giving Ellie the evil eye, but she didn't notice or didn't care. Fucking slut. I wished, just once, that I would have the balls to walk away from her. What kind of relationship was this, anyway?

It was incredibly awkward for me, to say the least. And I thought yesterday was bad. Toby and Jeff had discussions about Chloe, who sat there and, I'd find out later, made Ashley and Ellie feel like total pigs for eating all of their salads. She was dumb as a fucking door knob was all that I cared to find out. She hailed from England, which was why she had the fucking dumbest accent ever. As soon as she said England, Ashley looked over at me like a guilty dog. Oh, get over it Kerwin. I didn't make eye contact. I wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

By the end of the night, I had accomplished my goal in getting Ellie alone in the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bathtub with her legs opened just so. I averted my eyes. I needed to vent my frustration for once, and I couldn't succumb to the blinding power Ellie had over me.

I got closer to her so I could whisper my yells. "Was he good, Ellie? Was he fucking worth it?"

"Are you talking about Spinner? Why are you so mad? I told you I was going to try to get him."

"Is this some kind of sick game to you, Ellie? They're getting married!"

"I know," she answered. "I'm the maid of honor."

"And you've slept with the groom. Perfect."

"Come on. You'd sleep with that Chloe bitch."

"No, Ellie. The thought didn't even cross my mind. Maybe it's because I kept looking at the eyes Spinner was making at you. He was fucking acting like he owned you. I guess he's right, though. Any guy with a twenty and a boner owns you, Ms. Nash."

"Oh please," she said easily. "I'm so much better than a twenty."

I looked up at her. Her eyes were locked on the wall behind my back. She's so beautiful. Why did she do this to herself? Couldn't she, for once, see what she meant to me? See what she's done to me? "I don't want you to strip anymore."

"What, Craig, you don't like money?"

"It's not worth it. I'll get another job, and you can get something that pays less. We'll manage. We always have."

"That's sweet."

Thank God. She's going to do it. No more restless nights wondering if she got raped, or worse. No more thoughts of preppy classmates copping a feel before work. Maybe this was the beginning of our road to marriage and children and a dog inside our white picket fence... "So, you're going to do it? You're going to quit?"

She looked up at me with the saddest eyes that I couldn't help but reach out and hold her. Her small body convulsed with tears and sobs. "Craig, I have to break up with you."


	5. Hike Up Your Skirt

**Useless**

**Chapter 5: Hike Up Your Skirt a Little More**

"_I'm the king of the castle_  
_You're the dirty rascal_  
_Crash into me_"  
-Dave Matthews Band 

"I'm calling bullshit on that one," I said and leveled myself down onto the covered toilet seat.

"Please stop. My head hurts too bad for your psychological babble."

"We're not doing this in Ashley-fucking-Kerwin's bathroom."

"We'll do it when and where I see fit. And I say we're doing it here and now."

"Don't do this. You're hurt or you're pissed off; you're something. Can you please explain what you're feeling so we can find an end to this that doesn't involve you breaking up with me?"

"I don't know what I'm feeling, not exactly. But I just need to walk out of here a single woman."

"Why is that, Ellie? Have I not been good enough for you? Have I not accepted you enough? I fucking love you, and I don't want you to hurt yourself. I worry about you, that's why I don't want you stripping anymore."

"I know you love me. And that's exactly why I'm breaking up with you."

"Just stop saying that, okay? You're not making any sense. I don't understand what you're trying to do."

"I only bring you down. From the beginning, when I conned you into cheating on Ashley, through all the drugs in college, now..."

"You're fucking insane, you know. You're the one good thing I have."

"I'm nothing. I'm the parasites that feed off of pond scum. I'm absolutely nothing, Craig. You're so much better off without me."

I draped my head in my hands. "I love you, and we're not breaking up. That's fucking final, Ellie."

Her hand slid off the side of the bathtub and hit her knee lightly. "It's right. I know it's right."

"I'll do it. I'll sleep with her."

Her facial expression took in slowly what I'd just said. "The supermodel?"

"Yes. If that's what you want, I'll do it."

She changed her stance on the edge of the bathtub so her hands were clasped and her elbows rested on her knees. She looked ready to strategize. "Do you think you can get her? You haven't gone after a woman in awhile."

I almost laughed, but I held it to myself. "She's pretty dumb. I think I can handle it."

"Flattery is key. Flatter her until you're ready to vomit on those two thousand dollar shoes of her's." She stared at the nail bed on her right pinkie until she decided to start biting it. "And don't bring up Toby. Let her bring him up, if she wants. My guess is that she won't. And don't you, for once second, feel bad about this. This is his punishment for dating a gold digger."

"I don't care about Toby. I care about you."

"Don't, Craig. You and me, we're a certain kind of people. The kind that only cares about themselves. So next time you think of tugging at my heart strings with a corny line from a Brat Pack movie, remember that I know you better than you know yourself."

Burn.

**.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. C.E .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.**

I sauntered back into the living room with purpose. Ashley stared at me, confused like usual, and I could read her mind so easily, it wasn't funny. I gave her a wink, and she immediately averted her gaze. Didn't Ellie dump him? Isn't he supposed to be upset? Well, one would think.

I took the occupied seat next to Chloe. Her fingers were strumming against the wine glass, and the most obviously bored expression was painted on her face. Her body contorted slightly to allow me enough room without our bodies actually having any contact.

"How do you like Toronto?" I asked. "I mean, compared with England."

She glanced nervously around the room before allowing her gaze to settle on me. "It's fine. Our queen's on your money."

I laughed slightly. "What are you doing, as far as work goes?"

"Meeting with designers. Trying to get on my feet, as far as being in shows goes."

"Oh. Interesting. Are you getting around the city okay with Toby working as much as he does? Do you have a lot of friends here?"

"Not a lot, but I try to keep busy with work, and I usuaully try to stay with Toby when he's not busy with work."

"Well, maybe some day this week, if you don't have an important meeting with designers, I could take you out to lunch. Show you the city. I usually don't do much during the day."

She looked around, searching for Toby's frame I'm sure, but she just brought her wine glass to her lips and tasted it when she couldn't find him in the room. "That would be wonderful," she said, almost in a whisper.

She excused herself to the ladies' room, and Ellie took the chance to softly shrink down into the couch where Chloe had been only seconds before. "Is she good for it?"

Ellie treated everything like a drug transaction. "Looks like there are still some people who can't resist my puppy dog eyes, present company excluded."

She shrugged. "You still have charm, it's just lost on me. I know you too well, now. I can only see your lovely charm when you use it on someone else. Which, yes, you do have that loyal puppy dog spirit, and you'd never cheat on me." I smiled to myself again. I have one thing. One thing on pretty Ms. Nash that she would never, ever know about me. "Unless I begged for it."

Whatever Ellie wants, Ellie gets.


	6. Who Loves Ya, Baby?

**Useless**

**Chapter 6: Who Loves Ya, Baby?**

I was being attacked at Ashley Kerwin's wedding. I wouldn't believe it if it wasn't currently happening to me. For weeks and weeks, our apartment had reeked of female planning, with Ellie trying to find the perfect dress while also coordinating the shower and helping Ashley and her mom with every goddamned last minute detail of the damn ceremony. I had been warned at least four times not to cause any disturbances and not to ruin the most joyous day of Ashley's life. And that was just this morning.

I had stupidly agreed to be Spinner's best man after realizing that Ellie would want it, and I was in the business of pleasing Ellie. Ever since the break-up, I had been walking on eggshells around her, and I was hoping that, after the wedding, I could stop. I gave up the coke, the pot, and I was working on my last bad habit, cigarettes. I kept screwing mindless girls for her sake, but it was getting old. I was getting old.

Being Spinner's best man, I had to stand uncomfortably close to him for the duration of the endless ceremony. Toby, a mere groomsman, stood behind me, and I could've sworn he kicked me a few times throughout the service. I didn't really care, he was, after all, Toby Isaacs, and I endured with minimal fidgeting.

I had to give a goddamn speech, too, even though I had nothing to say about the guy that was in the least flattering. However, about five minutes before I was going to give the speech, I got punched in the face. Toby Isaacs, the little bitch, punched me twice, once in the face and once in the side, before I regained control and knocked him to the ground. He screamed at me and spit on me, but I didn't get off of him, not until he strung together enough words so that I figured out why he had attacked me at his step-sister's wedding.

Chloe.

The damn bitch took off a few nights ago, and I didn't think anything of it. I took her out a few times, she called me incessantly, and it was enough to get back into bed with Ellie. I thought it was over. I thought I was done with her. And then Toby fucking Isaacs has to fucking punch me at his own step-sister's wedding.

I stood up slowly, afraid to do so, afraid that with the death of the commotion, I would have a lot of explaining to do. And I didn't do anything. I stared at him, and he stared back at me, although weakly because his left eye was already starting to swell and bruise. Spinner grabbed me, pulled me off of him, screaming something about "breaking it up." He, like always, was a day late and a buck short.

Ellie put her hand on my shoulder, but she stopped short of dragging me out of the room. I tried to plead my case with my eyes, but she just stared at me. Suddenly, a mass of white got between her and pushed me into a more secluded spot. "Hey, Ashley," I said, coming more to my senses. "Sorry that I, well, you know, kicked Toby's ass." It didn't seem right to try to sugarcoat it. I kicked his ass. If it all weren't so fucked up, I'd be proud and let some guys buy me a drink.

"Ellie and Spinner have been having an affair, did you know that?" And, quite suddenly, kicking Toby's ass didn't seem as momentous.

"I knew they were together... once. I didn't tell you, well, truthfully, I didn't think you'd believe me. Plus, you seemed so happy."

"Happy with Spinner? Craig, I thought you knew me better than that."

She did, I noticed now, look incredibly sad dolled up in virgin white. "I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry you found out on your wedding day."

She looked a bit perplexed. "I found out weeks ago, Craig."

"Oh? Then why did you go through with the wedding?"

She didn't answer, or her answer was more unexpected than any verbal offering she could have given. She pressed herself against me, her lips pushing against my own, my hands involuntarily getting lost in the bunches of her wedding gown. I was completely shocked and taken aback, but the only response I could come up with was to kiss her back.

Unfortunately for me, the area wasn't exactly secluded. As soon as Ellie shrieked with amazing volume to bring me back into my thoughts, I realized exactly what had happened. Ellie ran out, probably screaming and crying. It wasn't my job, as her lap dog, to make out with her best friend on said best friend's wedding day.

But I looked at Ashley, who was still holding onto the back of my coat as if Ellie's presence didn't affect her in the least. This woman wasn't Ellie's best friend. "All this," I said as I forcefully removed her hand from my coat, "all this for a little revenge?"

I spit at her feet and walked out, not even bothering to listen for a response.


End file.
